Ghosts That We Knew
by underneathasycamore
Summary: Eight years is enough time to get married, have a child, start a career, travel, question your beliefs, or make yourself into something. But five years later the loss of a loved one will still hurt, the nightmares will still be there, people will still won't have forgotten or forgiven the past. And that is where we find ourselves, 2818 days after the final battle.
1. Introduction

Eight years is a long time. It's enough time to get married, have a child, start a career, travel, question your beliefs, or make yourself into something. And at the same time, eight years isn't nearly long enough. Five years later the loss of a loved one will still hurt, still make you grab at your chest when you're alone because the pain is so powerful that you can't scream out. Five years isn't enough time for the nightmares to go away, and sometimes it's not long enough for some people to forgive or forget the past. And that is where we find ourselves, 2818 days after the Final Battle.


	2. Chapter 1

_Education is an admirable thing, but it is well to remember from time to time that nothing that is worth knowing can be taught. _

_- Oscar Wilde_

Change is not an easy thing. It doesn't matter is the change is made my choice or force, there are still hard days. Day when you want to give up and go back to your old ways because they are safe, because they what you know, and you've gotten this far with them. Draco was under the naive impression that once he understood that his previous feelings towards those that were not of pure blood, those who chose to fight against the dark, or Muggles in general were wrong that the way he acted and thought would automatically change. But when Seamus Finnigan accidently dumped into as Malfoy was walking through the Great Hall after the battle, his first impulse was to shove him and call him an idiotic half breed. Oh yes, change was hard. But he meant what he said to Granger.

Over the next three months, Malfoy was essentially on house arrest along with his Mother. His Father, who was a bigger threat, was being kept in Azkaban because of his association with Voldemort and the crimes that he had committed. Malfoy knew that his father would be sentenced to Azkaban for everything that he had done. The Ministry was not going lightly on those that were affiliated with Voldemort in order to set an example for any future dark wizards. In fact, Draco and his Mother may have been in the cells next to his father if it hadn't been for Potter and Granger. They both spoke to the Minister of Magic on his Mother and his behalf. Potter explained that his Mother had lied about him being dead, which resulted in Potter gaining the upper hand that allowed him to win the final battle. Granger also testified that while she was a victim of torture in the Malfoy Manor herself, she strongly believed that Draco and her Mother had very little choice in their role with the war, and were simply acting in a way that would allow them to stay alive. Which was true, but also something that he would never admit.

During his sixth year of schooling, he would go through bouts of insomnia because he had such terrible nightmares at night of what he had seen. During the day his stomach was in tight knots with anxiety over the task that Voldemort has given him. He could hardly keep food down most days, and he constantly felt like he was going to be sick. Everyone seemed to forget that he was still just a silly sixteen year old boy trying to make his father proud of his son.

In the end, his father was sentenced to Azkaban for life, along with slew of other Death Eaters. Draco's mother was granted a house arrest sentence for one year, pending that she followed that year up with one of service to the community which was to be documented and submitted to the Ministry each week for monitoring. Draco, as he was not seen as an adult in the Wizarding World at the time of his crimes, was not tried as an adult. Youth that were involved with the dark side were tried on a case by case basis depending on the severity of their crimes. Draco had never killed or tortured anyone, he did attempt to kill the Dumbledore and allowed Death Eaters into the school. However do to a few chosen peoples testimonies on his behalf, he was sentenced to six months of community service which he completed while finishing his last year of schooling.

In September, he returned to Hogwarts. He was one of a very select few Slytherin's that returned to finish their education. It was thought that many were either incarcerated or too afraid to show their faces. And after his first day, he can understand why so many of them were afraid. Sure, McGonagall had retired the four houses in a sport of one house to support more the breaking down of prejudicial walls, be everyone still knew where they belonged. And everyone still knew who he was.

In the span of the one day, he had been shoved, tripped, called names, glared at and spit on. The Malfoy name no longer held any power over his fellow students, all it got him now was a dirty look and a swift punch to the kidney when the professor wasn't looking. He didn't really know how he could expect anything else, so close to the war. Everyone was still running on adrenaline and sleepless nights, still living the fog of their mourning, still living in the past with what they knew. And what they knew was that Draco Malfoy was a bad person.

And this is how the year went, though with time the attacks grew less vicious. They never really stopped, but they lessened a great deal. He had made few new acquaintances and even fewer friends. Luna Lovegood was the first. She had helped him pick up his fallen school books after a seventh year Ravenclaw, who he recalled from Quidditch, pushed him down the last few steps of a flight of stairs. He had no idea what made her stop and help him. She had been kidnapped and help prisoner in the basement of his family's mansion for almost a month, and yet here she was picking up his textbooks. He will admit that before he had called her Looney Lovegood_ along_ with the rest of the students. But when she helped him pick up his books and proceeded to walk to the Great Hall with him he vowed that he would never call her that again. And if he ever heard anyone calling her that he would jinx them to hit themselves in the face. Repeatedly.

In the weeks that followed he got to know Luna more. He soon realized that she was not crazy, but rather whimsical and honest to the point of being blunt. He could appreciate those qualities, he had had enough secrets and darkness in his life. He had tried to apologize and asked if it would ever be possible for her to forgive him for what happened last year.

She gazed at him with her doe shaped eyes and serene smile across her lips and simply said, "Why Draco, I forgave you months ago when I saw you run after Neville to give him a book that he had forgotten. You're different now, you're trying and that's what matters."

Being friends with Luna soon caused him to begin crossing paths with Hermione Granger. He had heard that Potter and Weasley had decided not to return to Hogwarts. Potter likely because he needed a break, and Weasley because he was lazy and detested school work. Still, it was odd seeing her without the other two. Odder still was how different she was. Her appearance was the same, if not a little more worn. She hadn't put any of the weight back on that she had lost during the war, and she had dark smudges under her eyes. In class, she rarely put up her hand to answer questions. He assumed that she was keeping up with her homework and getting the best grades as usual. Actually, he knew that she was because he sneaked a peak at her last Charms paper. _Outstanding_ as always. The only thing that seems to have improved was her hair, which had lost its bushiness during the war, and left her hair in curls instead of an abandoned birds nest. But for reasons unknown to him, her fire was gone. Frankly, she was beginning to remind him of how he looked and felt back in sixth year. He took it upon himself while studying with Luna one evening to ask what was up with Granger, but all she went on about were birds and how sometimes they flew before they were ready and then broke their necks when they hit the concrete.

During the rest of the school year, he and Hermione ran into each other on a regular basis. They had similar class schedules, and now thanks to Luna, similar friends. Nothing grew out of their routine of being around each other. They simply would sit at the same table to each or study if the other was there alone. It never grew into a friendship, the two more or less simply had an understanding of the other. They were pleasant to one another and by the end of the year. Each had a new found respect for the other. To him, she was the girl who made all the right choices, and who was willing to give others a second chance. To her, he was the boy who made all the wrong choices, but who was trying to change.

Five months later, Draco found himself sitting in the front row of the graduating year with the other witches and wizards what were graduating with distinction. McGonagall had made special arrangements for his mother to be able to attend the ceremony so that his Mother would be able to see him graduate. His theory that Granger was keeping up her grades proved to be correct, when he saw her sit down in the front row a few seats to his right. The majority of the Weasley clan was there along with Potter, and for a brief moment he wondered if Muggles who had magical children were allowed to attend the graduation ceremonies. The thought ended quickly when McGonagall stepped up to the podium to welcome them.

"Beside me sit thirty-seven incredible resilient and courageous witches and wizards. Many of these students have had an up close look and tangled with the one of the darkest times in the history of our world. They have shown remarkable bravery, strength, and intelligence. In their years of schooling these graduates have portrayed Gryffindor nerve and chivalry, Hufflepuff loyalty, Ravenclaw wit, and Slytherin's cunning and resourcefulness. Please help me in congratulating the graduating Hogwarts class of 1998."

Following the applause, each student's name was called in alphabetical order by McGonagall. As a student's name was called, Professor Flitwick charmed the Hogwarts crest that each student had pinned to his or her robes to change into a slightly smaller golden circular pin. Embossed on its golden plate was the Hogwarts crest, the students' last name, and the year of their graduation.

"I have no doubt in my mind that we will see great things from these students in the near future. Graduating with Distinction we have Jordon Alkers, Hermione Granger, Dianna Jeevry, Theodor Knott, Draco Malfoy, Dean Thomas, and Ginevra Weasley." As the audience gave a round of applause (with a few hoots and hollers coming from the Weasleys and Harry), plaques were handed out by Professor Flitwick.

"I would like to finish today's ceremony by remembering those students who could not be here today. Lavender Brown, Vincent Crabbe, Colin Creevey, Cedric Diggory, Marcus Knight, Emily Moon, Harold Rollary, Fred Weasley, and Amelia Vincent."

Staff members rose from their seats each with a large white candle in hand, and levitated a candle down on the grey stone ledge behind the front table in the Great hall. Once all the names were read out, each professor raised their wand and a small orange flamed phoenix appeared from their wands and flew across the candles, lighting the wicks with its tail.

"For the every student that we have lost, regardless of who they fought for or against, a candle will be lit. Their candles will remain in the Great Hall as a reminder of where were have come from and a beacon of hope for where we may go. As long as Hogwarts stand, these beacons will never go out.

Let us never forget the great tragedy or sacrifice that these students saw and gave. It is our duty to ensure that everything and everyone that we have lost was not in vain. For those that are struggling to find their place in the world or who are trying to escape the path that has been lain out for them, may you find your way. Should you not succeed, remember that you can always rise up from your ashes and start anew."


	3. Chapter 2

_Time changes everything except something within us which is always surprised by change._

- _Thomas Hardy_

_2182 days later_

It had been four years since the two had seen each other. When she walked into his office he had a flashback of the tired girl that he had last seen at school, and just as quickly as it came it left. Before him stood a woman that reminded him more of the old Granger; no tired eyes, a small spark in her eyes, and mouth set like she was on a mission.

She stuck out her hand, "Malfoy."

"Granger," He said as he returned the gesture. "Not that I mind the business, but surely there are other architects in London that you could have gone to. I'm sure you didn't come to me based on our history at Hogwarts."

"No, certainly not. I've chosen to seek out your work because I've seen it before. I was visiting Romania last summer and saw your bank. It's wonderful, and half of the wizarding architects in London can't build a straight building to save their wands."

He openly laughed at her distaste, "Yes, I've often wondered how many of them have managed to stay in business. So, what exactly are you here for, Granger?"

"St. Mungo's is looking to have an addition built in order to accommodate the changing needs of the wizarding populati-"

"A few extendable charms, shouldn't take lon-"

"No, not an addition within a building. An entire new building all together. Don't interrupt me, Malfoy."

He chuckled, "You always came off as a no nonsense type of witch, I suppose some things will never change."

She made sure to give him a long narrowed look before continuing, "Since the war, the health care needs of the Wizarding community has changed drastically." She pulled out a magical blue print that would zoom in or change levels with the tap of her wand. "Currently, Mungo's has six levels. The ground level contains Reception and Artifact Accidents, cauldron explosions, backfiring wands-"

"Touching a cursed necklace."

His comment caused her to pause in what she was doing. Her mind whirled for the right things to say. She was specifically _not_ going to use that as an example. What did him bringing up a time when they had both been teenagers and he had made so many wrong choices mean? She shook her head, she didn't have time _or_ the room in her brain for this at the moment. It would have to wait.

"Onto the next level we have creature-Induced Injuries, The Second for Magical Bugs and Diseases, then the third is for potions and plant poisoning, the fourth is for spell damage and the fifth acts as a lounge area for visitors."

When it didn't appear that she was going to say anything further, he leaned forward and took a closer look at the blue prints of the Hospital. Everything looked quite normal and standard to him. The prints were a little out of date, but that was because of when it was built. As he looked deeper at the plans, he started to piece together the most efficient way to add onto the building. Building up seemed the most logical, but it is possible to add more lengthwise, it would just take longer.

"I'm sorry Granger, but I fail to see what the Hospital is missing. It looks like all a standard Wizarding Hospital to me. What area are you wanting to add on?"

She sat back in her seat, smoothing a wrinkle out of her pencil skirt. "Mental health."

"Don't they already have a ward for that? I thought Longbottom's parents were there."

"We do, and they are. You're talking about the Janus Thickey Ward over here on the fourth floor." When all she received in response was a blank look she continued. "The Thickey Ward isn't enough anymore. That ward has been overflowing since the war, with a wait list longer than my arm. We need more rooms for our patients, a place for outpatient clinics, one on one and group therapy, and a rehabilitation floor."

Malfoy leaned back in his chair and brought his hands to his chin in contemplation. Taking what Granger requested into consideration her closed his eyes for a moment and mapped out how the building could look in his mind. Once he was finished, he opened his eyes to see Granger staring back at him with her head turned in thought. Deciding to ignore the look she was giving him, he pulled out a piece of parchment and quill. With smooth lines and sweeping strokes he drew out a template of what he was thinking and passed it across the desk.

Gingerly grabbing the drawing, it was a full ten minutes before she said anything. "Malfoy, this… It's beautiful."

It was a circular building that he had drawn, four stories high. It appeared to be covered in windows all separated by wall pillars. There was an open archway with a set of double doors for the entrance. He had drawn the building from multiple angles. One that was drawn from a bird eye view showed that the center of the building was missing. So instead of cylinder shaped, it was more of a ring. He scrawled a few words such as _fountain_ and _garden _in the center, and her mind was already beginning to picture how it would look in the spring time. He had also taken the liberty to draw two examples of how the inside would look. One had a floor of open concept with a large desk and comfortable waiting area in the middle with an entrance to what he had written as the rehabilitation wing to the left and consultations to the right. The level that he had drawn above contained a hall way of room on one side with healers' stations on the other. The simplicity and smoothness of the quill strokes almost had a calming effect on her being, and already she could only anticipate how ideal it would be when it was built.

"When?"

Malfoy threw himself back into his leather chair and laughed. "Granger, this is just a consultation. We haven't even talked location, or numbers. I still have to design the bloody thing!"

"Don't worry about the finances, it's there. As long as you're pricing is within reason, of course. As per a location I suppose it would be ideal to wait until you have developed the design before looking… How long would it take you to finish designing it?"

He flipped a few pages around in his day book that was laying on the desk and grabbed for his quill once more. "Depends on the scale and the pickiness of the client." Sparing a look up at the woman across from him he continued, "As long as you don't go changing your mind every day I can have it done and form a team in a month. We'll meet in two weeks so that you can have a look at the progress I've made and make any suggestions you feel necessary. How does 1 o'clock two Thursdays from now work for you?"

"Best to make it half past, I have another meeting at 12."

He got up from his chair, shook her hand and walked her to his office door. One thing that he chose not to leave behind from his childhood were manners. "I'll see you then."

She paused before exiting his office, "Would it be alright if I… kept that drawing?"

Her request puzzled her but he saw no reason as to why he shouldn't accommodate her request. With a flick of his wand me made a copy of his drawing for himself and rolled the original piece of parchment up before handing it to her. And with that she was gone.

* * *

If you've gotten to this point, let me say first: thank you for taking the time to read this! If you are enjoying the story so far please let me know. And even in you're not, let me know that too!


	4. Chapter 3

I decided that I couldn't wait to put the next chapter up. Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter Three**

_She needs a new journal. The one she has is problematic. To get to the present, she needs to page through the past, and when she does, she remembers things, and her new journal entries become, for the most part, reactions to the days she regrets, wants to correct, rewrite._

- _Dave Eggers_

"I'm sorry Miss Granger, but we've looked everywhere."

Hermione ran a tired hand through her hair, "Surely there has to be something that we haven't thought of. A book we haven't read, somewhere we haven't looked. I just can't believe that no one has come up with a solution to this or at least _tried_. I mean this spell has been used for centuries!"

Kingsley leaned in closer to the table that the two were sitting at. "Yes, wizards have been using the spell for centuries because it works, because it doesn't just _wear off._ When the Ministry needs to go around removing particular memories from Muggle's to cover up some _idiot's _blunder, we don't want those memories to come back. If the spell wasn't as strong and reliable as it is then we would be risking the exposure of our world!"

"Don't patronize me, Kingsley. I'm just saying that logically, there must be a reversal spell of some sort for the long term use of the charm."

"It's been almost eight years Granger, with no progress. I'm sorry,but I'm pulling the Ministry off the case. Perhaps you should move forward as well..."

She was overcome by anger but managed to grit out, "They're my _parents, _Kinglsey."

"And you did the right thing by them. We have to make difficult decisions in times of war. And when the war is over, we have to live with them."

She calmly waited until he gathered his cloak off the back of the chair and flooed out of her office because dropping her head into her hands and letting out the sob that had been burning in her chest. Years of searching, and testing, and hoping; and still, she was left with nothing. All this time and she was still at the same point that she was five years ago, sitting in a Café watching her parents have tea blissfully unaware that they had a daughter who was sitting two tables away from them.

Two weeks after the war had ended, the funerals had been attended, and those that they had lost had been buried, Hermione bought a plane ticket for Australia. She thought about apparating, or having someone from the Ministry arrange to bring her over, but in all honesty she needed the twelve hour plane ride to think. How was she going to tell her parent's that she was the one who erased her from their memories. Would they forgive her? Would they even see her as the same daughter that had come home that summer? Or would she still be a stranger in their eyes, changed and scared by a war that they were not a part of and couldn't understand?

In the end, none of her questions were answered. She had performed the reversal spell that was listed in an old book that she found in the Tomes and Scrolls, _Spells and Charms for the Mind._ In fact, when the spell didn't work the first time she cast is on her parent's she tried it nine more times. Still nothing. They were still Wendell and Monica Wilkins, and she was will a daughter that they never had. The spell that she had used was a version of the _obliviate_ one commonly used by the Ministry for short term Wizard exposure. They use the _memoriate_ one when Ministry Officials don't find out about the exposure soon enough or if they arrive too late to simply obliviate the last few minutes of someone's memory. The _memoriate_ spell allows the caster to remove memories from a person's mind that have a common theme. For Hermione, she wanted to remove idea that he parents had ever had a daughter, she had to focus very hard on strong memories of her and her parent's when casting it. In conjunction with removing their memories of her, she also removed their identities from their names and replaced them with the spell _Inceptionate_. And as a result, Wendell and Monica Wilkins had a strong urge to move to Australia where they could enjoy their child free lives.

She spent the rest of the time that she had left before going back to finish he final year at Hogwarts traveling between Australia and England. The Ministry worked with her during that time to try and get her parent's memories back. She had spent countless hours and sleepless night researching on how to get her parent's back but came up with nothing. There didn't appear to be much history on the subject. While there was information on the application of the charm, there wasn't much on the reversal and why it hadn't worked. After two months, Kingsley made a personal visit to the Weasley residence to see break the news to her. The counter-spell didn't work on her parent's because the charm had been left on them too long. According to the information that was gathered, the charm was only reversible within the first month of its application, anything longer than that and it seemed that the charm was irreversible.

After that meeting, Hermione refused to leave her room for eleven days until she left for Hogwarts. Any hope that she had left of getting her parent's back and coming out of this war intact were snuffed out. Attending Hogwarts proved to be more difficult that she anticipated. She had hoped that sticking her mind deep into her school books would alleviate some of wandering it did to her parent's. She hadn't been sleeping well since her first failed attempts at retrieving their memories. The guilt that bubbled in her stomach prevented her from eating much during the day, with the sensation of wanting to vomit being so strong. Nightmares of the war and of her parent's hate woke her up from her slumber and kept her usual eagerness for knowledge muted. She still managed to keep her grades up, and any spare time that she had was spend researching and asking her Professors for their opinions and ideas. She graduated with distinction, a gateway into almost any job that her heart desired, and no closer to getting her parent's back than when she came back to school.

"Granger! What are you still doing here, I thought you had a meeting at half past one?"

Startled, Hermione took a quick glance at the clock on her wall, "Oh, shite!"

* * *

"Malfoy, if you don't mind me asking," She started as she circled around his scaled down model of the Hospital, "what made you go into architecture. I had always thought that you were rather skilled with potion making and would gravitate towards something in that manner."

He didn't move from his spot leaning on the wall behind this desk. "I suppose I could have been rather successful working with potions, but I never felt challenged in potions. Everything can be broken down chemically, so all positions are in essential just a different combination or equation."

She made a noise that sounded like she agreed with his thoughts on potions but didn't bother to comment any further. As always, once something caught her attention she absorbed herself within it and ignored the outside world. Figuring that there would be no further conversation between then until she was done inspecting his progress began to go through his mental check list of things he left to do for that day.

"That reminds me Granger, what is your title exactly? I have to submit your information to the company lawyer so that he can begin drawing up the contact for the building."

She seems to forget that he was still in the room and nearly dropped the model on the floor when his voice filled the room. "What? Oh, um I'm the head healer on the Thickey Ward, and I founded the Advancements and Operations Committee of the hospital and represent the Healers on it."

"Still no social life than?"

"I don't believe I'm paying for your wit, Malfoy."

"Technically, you aren't paying me anything, yet. But consider it a gift for a first time customer non-the-less."

She rolled her eyes, some things will never change. "Well, from what I can see in your model, structurally I feel that it would work out wonderfully. I don't have any concerns at the moment about the building itself, though it should be noted that while the idea of so many windows is lovely, they will have to all be charmed so that patients can see out, but outsiders cannot see in for confidentiality reasons. I'll likely have more input when we start talking placements, protection and detections charms, and the insides of the building."

Malfoy nodded in agreement with what she said, and pulled out the file that he had started for this building project. He took meticulous notes of all decisions and suggestions that were made in meetings. One, so that he wouldn't overlook something and two, so that no one could try say they had requested something when they didn't which would cause him to eat the cost of having it fixed.

"I should have the contract ready for you to sign in two weeks. The model will be ready then as well."

"Would it be possible for you to make a presentation to the AOC before I sign the contract? I fully plan on moving forward with the project and feel that the committee will feel that same way, but it is only fair that they see what we are planning."

"Of course, owl me a meeting request and I'll bring the papers with me for you to sign after."

She began scribbling notes in a notebook of her own, back bent and shoulders crunched like always. He suddenly felt like they were back at Hogwarts, studying for their N.E.W.T.S. until late into the night. It comforted him to know that some things hadn't changed. Perhaps that's is what prompted him to ask the next thing that he did.

"Do you still speak with Luna?"

Her head shot up again, startled that she wasn't by herself. She really had to start paying more attention. "Oh, yes. We had tea a few weeks ago."

"I presume that you will be attending her wedding next month than."

"You would be correct… Um, it's getting late and I still have a mountain of paper work sitting on my desk. I'll send you and owl about the meeting."

He nodded and led her to the door of his office, "Until then."

* * *

Thank you to all of you that have taken the time to read this story and/or review. It really does mean a lot! If you have a spare moment please send me a review, I do enjoy reading your thoughts on the story as it progresses. Until next time!


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

_Deep grief sometimes is almost like a specific location, a coordinate on a map of time. When you are standing in that forest of sorrow, you cannot imagine that you could ever find your way to a better place. But if someone can reassure you that they themselves have stood in that same place, and now have moved on, sometimes this will bring hope._

- _Elizabeth Bilbert_

The meeting with the AOC members went over quite well. Draco was the epitome of professionalism and politeness. Hermione had to stand at the back of the room during his presentation so that the rest of the members wouldn't see her trying to hide the smile that kept pulling at her lips, or trying to keep the laugh down in her belly.

'_Oh, if only they had known him back in school'_ she thought to herself.

But even she had to admit, that Malfoy had certainly grown up; Though he still had that snarky streak of his. Once the meeting was over, Draco and Hermione retired to her office to go through the official paper work and discuss the next steps of the project. Draco quickly became bored as she read through the legal documents and began to pester her with questions.

"I'm surprised that you're not off working for the Ministry over on level 4, Granger. If I recall correctly, you were quite up in arms about that great ugly bird getting put on the chopping block after it attacked me."

"That's because _Buckbeak_ didn't do anything wrong, _you _were being an idiotic thirteen year old boy. I contemplated working within the Ministry, and they were quick to offer me a number of positions, but there are still a few too many narrow minded people that work there for my liking. I still keep up to date on any advancements that the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures Department makes, and submit suggestions and complaints when I feel necessary. Besides, I enjoy working here and it allows me conduct research."

Malfoy laughed openly as he took back the contract that she had finished signed and added his own signature. "Research? Now that sounds like you." She rolled her eyes in response and dropped down into her office chair. "So what it that you're researching?"

He didn't miss the alarmed look on her face when he asked, "Oh! Um, I'm research – "

_HEALERS, CODE WHITE ON THE THICKEY WARD. I REPEAT: HEALERS, CODE WHITE ON THE THICKEY WARD._

Hermione reacted so quickly that he missed the monetary look of relief that crossed her face when they were interrupted. By the time he was turning back toward her she was already running past him with her wand in hand. Adrenaline sprung from his cells and began pumping through his veins; he felt like he was back in the middle of the war. Without a second thought he began running after Granger, pulling his wand out of his holster and having it at the ready as he went. They arrived at the area of the code white a moment later, and what he saw stoped him in his tracks sent a chill down his spine.

It's the sound that hits him first. It is the familiar sound of torture and is it being ripped from the man's chest. It is the sound that Dementors were created from. The man reminds him of an escaped prisoner, all bones and torn clothes. He's gripping his hair in his first and pulling it out at the root. Wild magic pulsed from him in waves, keeping all the healers back and their spells at bay. He heard the door to the floor close and lock behind him, and suddenly all he can hear is a ringing in his ears. Granger moved closure to the crazed man as the other Healers keep other patients contained in their own rooms or fall into a line behind her. Everything is moving in slow motion, even the waves of magic seemed to be hitting him slower.

Granger had gotten as close to the man as his magic would allow her, and she threw a hand behind her to get the other Healers to stop their incantations. He doesn't know what she says, or how long it takes. But after what feels like hours, the patient stops and collapses in exhaustion. The waves of his magic dissipate into whimsical streams of purple smoke when he hits the floor. The Healers are quick to raise their wands again, but Granger keeps them back still. She kneels beside the patient and puts a hand on his shoulder as he cries. She remains next to him for a few moments longer before summoning a magical wheel chair. She then levitated the weekend wizard into the chair. The sounds around Malfoy slowly began to filter back into hiss ears as she wheeled him into a room and out of the hallway.

_HEALERS, CODE WHITE ALL CLEAR. I REPEAT: CODE WHITE, ALL CLEAR. _

Hermione returned to the hall a few minutes later and walked right past Draco to the Healer's station.

"Does anyone know what caused his episode?"

"We were running behind on our potions, and a women in the group therapy session reminded him of his wife." Hermione ran a tired hand through her hair and mutter something about space and lack of personnel. "Now probably wouldn't be a good time to tell you that Jefferson's put in his notice this morning."

Hermione sighed and began walking back towards Draco, "Probably not. Put the notice out to close two weeks from now, send me the applications as they come it. If we don't have someone by the time he leaves I'll cover his sessions until we find someone. Mr. Malfoy, why don't we go back to my office and finish up that paper work."

They walked in silence to her office, and he kept his comments to himself until the door to her office was shut. "Blimey, Granger. Are all your patients like that?"

"Not usually. Perhaps if they are just entering treatment, or have an episode like that gentleman did."

"Am I allowed to ask why he's here?"

"You can ask whatever you like, you just might not get an answer." She took a moment to give him a long look as they sat back down at her desk before continuing. "I don't make it a point to give our confidential patient information, Malfoy. So anything I tell you stays with you and in this room. Understood?"

He gave a curt nod in response, and waited patiently for her to continue.

"That patient has been with St. Mungo's since before I began working here. He's what we call a frequent flyer. He comes gets treated, leaves for a while, sometimes weeks, sometimes months, and comes back when he can't cope anymore. He's suffering from a severe case of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. I believe that if we had the right facilities and resources, we could lengthen the time that he is able to live outside of the hospital and hopefully over time have him be able to function normally without our help. But right now, with what we have, we can't do that."

"Is this a common problem that you department has."

"Yes, and It's growing."

"Well Granger, I think I've found a plot of land for the Hospital. The building that is there is being condemned. The location will give you a bit of privacy and has a wonderful lot of land that I'm sure I can arrange to have some walkways and such put in. But I would like your opinion on it first. "

She smile and gave a huff of relief, "Of course, I can't wait."

"No need to, we can take a look at the property right now."

He took the smile that lit up her face as a yes and began to gather his papers desk, making sure that everything was signed an in order. Once he was sure that he had everything, he grabbed his cloak off of the coat hook in the corner. She put away her paper work for the day and grabbed her clock. He was waiting for her at the door of her office and went to grab the handle when she was beside him, but something stopped him from turning the handle.

"What _really_ happened to him?"

She looked up from organizing the papers on her desk, and a carefully shield mask fell over her features, a skill she gained from being in this profession. "He was going to switch sides. So Death Eaters set his wife and three children on fire and made him watch."

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	6. Chapter 5

Thank you to those that have been reading or/and reviewing!

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**Chapter 5**

_Fear cuts deeper than swords._

- _George R.R. Martin_

She would tell you that fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself, but she's not sure if the same thing goes for when you have to walk back through one of the worst experiences in your life for a second time. It had been nearly eight years since she had been inside the walls of this building. She had hoped that she would never be in this place again, and if she was being truly honest she would say that on more than one occasion that she hoped it burned to the ground. Yes, fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself, but in this case she feels that fear is a completely acceptable feeling.

The scar on her arm never faded or went away after Bellatrix was killed. Few knew that she had it, and those that did didn't say anything to her about it. It took her almost three years to not tear up at the memories that it evoked when she looked at it. During that time she often took to wearing long sleeved shirts or keeping her arms folded. Even today, she still tried to keep it covered, but now she did it for the comfort of others rather than her own. She still got the stares when others did catch a glimpse of it, horrified by the word that still marked one of the people that the community felt saved the wizarding world. But it was a part of her now. As ugly as it was, what happened to her was a part of who she was now.

"Granger, are you coming or not?"

"I'd rather not." She mumbled to herself as she jogged to catch up to Draco who was waiting for her at the gate. "Why are we here?"

"I thought that you would like to take a look at the location for your Hospital."

She couldn't help but let her mouth drop open, "You can't be serious! This place _put_ people in the Hospital! This place-"

"I know full well what when on in this place, Granger. I lived here, remember?" He closed his eyes and tried to take a calming deep breath before continuing. Snapping at her would not help him win her over on this idea. "This place has played host to some of the darkest wizards in history. People have been tortured and killed. I've hated this place for a long time. And now that it's mine, I fully intend to burn the bloody thing to the ground."

Both fell silent after his small speech. Hermione because she was speechless, and Malfoy because he didn't want to say anything else for the fear that he would explode and say everything that was in his head. She grabbed a hold of one of the gate bars with her hand, the cool metal edges dug into her palm. There was no magic here, not anymore. She can see the dark looming mansion between the bars of the gates, and she feels like it's the last time she was here. All over again, she feels like a scared young girl, trying to put on the brave face of a witch far beyond her years. But in truth she wasn't sure if they were going to make it out alive that night. There were certainly times in the place when she felt like she was going to die.

She's not sure what comes over her, but suddenly she is pushing the gate open and running up the hill towards the mansion. She hears Draco call her name but it doesn't hinder her speed or will. She had to see that room again. She has to go there to know that she is the stronger of the two, and that at the end of a long battle of memories and phantom pain, she will be the only one left standing. Malfoy has caught up to her now, just as she reached the top of the hill. She feels his fingers grab at her arm, but she yanks it out of her reach. She is tired of people trying to hold her back. The door is locked when she tries to open it. Malfoy says something to her, but it just sounds like noise. She pulls out her wand and preforms the best unlocking spell that she knows before trying the door again. This time the double doors swing open when she turns the knob.

It's not how she remembers it, not entirely. When she was dragged through this hallway so many years ago, she remembers clearly how all the painting shouted nasty and horrible things at her. She remembers her hip bumping into a dark oak table and tripping on a rug. But the hall before her is bare. All the portraits and tapestries have been removed, there is no furniture to hinder her path. It's completely empty.

She has to close her eyes to remember the way to the room. She had been to frantic and concentrating on trying to come up with a plan to get them out of there that she hadn't paid attention to the route that the snatchers had taken them. She remembers hitting her hip off the table, and the snatcher that was holding onto her hair yank it hard to the left when she didn't turn to follow the rest of them. She remembers being thrown on the ground after they entered the room. When she opens her eyes again she's there, standing in the middle of the room where she had once laid.

There's no furniture, and the drapes that would have kept the room dark and private are gone. Now the sunlight is streaming through the windows highlighting the dust particles that she had disturbed. She can see the stairs that lead down to the dungeon that had held her friends captive while she was held for questioning. The ceiling is as bare as the floor, and she wonders briefly if they ever replaced the crystal chandelier that Dobby had smashed in order to save them. She turn in a slow circle and stops at the fireplace. It's the engraving on the stone that takes her back. It was in the centre of the brick fireplace, a delicate and intricate design of lines. That pattern had been so engraved in her mind for the past eight years that she could have drawn it from memory alone. That was the thing that she focused on while she was being tortured by Bellatrix. No matter how powerful her cruciatus curse was, no matter how many times she screamed and threatened her, she kept that design in her mind. No matter what that demented witch did to her, that pattern never changed.

She can remember when she had to take a dreamless sleep potion every night just so that she could get to sleep. They nightmares used to be so bad that she would wake up screaming and trashing; trying to get away. It took years before her nightmares started to become less frequent. But she still had them every once in a while, and when she did she woke with the feeling of the cruciatus still fresh in her bones. After Harry killed Voldemort, everyone was elated with excitement and relief. They had all foolishly thought that the war was over, but his darkness ran deeper than they thought. Even with Voldemort dead, his followers were so loyal that they continued his legacy in his name. The remaining Death Eaters all went into hiding for a few months after the battle at Hogwarts, trying to regroup. They formed a number of smaller groups so that they could attack multiple places at once, or only have one group attack at a time, guaranteeing that no one would be able to catch all of them. And that is why it took more than two more years before the anyone could actually believe that the war was over. Hermione remembers how busy St. Mungo's was during her internship after school, it's one of the reasons that she was able to learn as much as she did and as fast. It was also a big reason of why she stayed, she was needed.

She doesn't know how long she has been lost in her thoughts, it's the itching on her scarred arm that bring her out of them and back to the present moment. Draco is standing at the doorway watching her with apprehension.

"You didn't have to come in here, Granger."

"Yes, I did."

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Please, if you have a spare minute send me a review and let me know how you think I'm doing. Thanks again!


	7. Chapter 6

**Thank you for all the reviews! Enjoy :)**

**AUTHORS NOTE: Just making a few corrections grammar and spelling wise. All the conent is the same. The past week as been extremely busy, but I'm hoping to get Chapter 7 up later tonight!**

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**Chapter Six**

_Reputation is what others think of us; character is what God knows of us. When you have spent what feels like eternity trying to repair a few moments of time that destroyed the view others once had of you ten you must ask yourself if you have the problem of is it really them? God doesn't make us try so hard… Only enemies do._

- _Shannon L. Alder  
_

_21 days later_

Luna's wedding was schedule for 3 O'clock that afternoon, and would take place outside on the acre of land that he father owned out in the country. It was a beautiful warm summer day for a wedding, and already Hermione was happy that Ginny convinced her to wear her hair up for the event. Her large volume of hair tended to hold in the heat at the base of her neck. The sleeveless dress that she had picked out for the weeding was a cross between a light pink and a peach colour. The dress highlighted her skin quite nicely and flared out slightly at her knees. Not that she would ever admit it, but the part that she liked most about the dress was how it flew around her when she twirled. Hermione was finishing the last touches on her make-up when Ron hollered up the stairs asking for her to looking for his tie. Rolling her eyes, she cast a quick glamour charm onto the scar on her arm and went to get the tie that she was sure he had left on the bed. She didn't make it a habit to use glamour charms on her scar, she didn't have anything to be ashamed of, but it was Luna's day and the last thing she wanted to do was draw attention away from her friend.

When she found Ron, he was sitting at the kitchen table eating one of Mrs. Weasley's freshly baked biscuits. "Di you fin it?"

"Don't talk with your mouth full Ron, honestly! And yes I did. It was on the bed where you Mum had put the rest of your suite."

"Oh, yeah… Didn't think to check there."

Hermione simply rolled her eyes at him and threw his tie onto the table. "Where's Harry and Ginny?"

Before he had a chance to answer, Ginny popper her head in the open window. "Come on you two, I want to get a good seat!"

* * *

The ceremony was beautiful and simplistic. Luna had chosen a beautiful arrangement of yellow calla lilies as her bouquet. Her dress matched the whimsical and lighthearted characteristics of her perfectly. As she watched her friend walk down the isle, Hermione's mind couldn't help but drift back to the girls they were when they first met. In all honesty, she had initially thought that Luna was rather odd, and embarrassingly enough called her Looney Lovegood once to her face. But Luna never held a grudge, it wasn't in her nature, it was when Hermione came back for her last year at Hogwarts that she realized how forgiving Luna actually was. Luna had befriended Malfoy at a time when no one would even look at him without snarling, even after being held in his family's dungeon for a month. Luna was there for Hermione when she couldn't get her parents back, and acted as a confidant who turned quickly into a close friend. She had this untraceable healing and calming nature about her, one that Hermione had badly needed. She deserved a life full of happiness and love, and Hermione was very thankful that she was there to witness an important piece of it.

After Rufus kissed his bride, the chairs from the ceremony where magiced away and soon replaced with circular tables and chairs that were clothed in simple white linen. On each table was a simple glass vase with a small bouquet of yellow calla lilies. The tables formed a large circle that left a space in the center. Hermine assumed that it would be used for dancing and speeches later on in the evening. Deciding to find her seat so that she could put down her purse, Hermione made her way over to the table that Ron was standing by. As she got closer, he leaned forward to read the names on the place cards.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, who sat _him_ at our table?"

Hermione furrowed and looked down at the name that had worked her friend up so much. _Draco Malfoy _and _Narcissa Malfoy_ were written elegantly beside similar cards that had her own name along with Ron, Harry, and Ginny's. Hermione couldn't help but roll her eyes and his childishness.

"Honestly, Ron."

Ron's face began to fill with red and the vein on the side of his forehead begin to pulse. "I'm not sitting beside some Death Eater! You and Harry may have forgotten what he did, but haven't!"

"Ronald, stop! This is not the place for your childish feud. Why can't you just grow up and leave it behind you? Can't you see that you are both different people now? Harry and I haven't forgotten who Malfoy was, we've just move on with our lives!"

"He's still the same ferret he always was! I don't know how you could even entertain the idea of being around him, let alone working with him, after what he's done. How could you? It's like you don't even care that it was once _him _that we were fighting against!"

Hermione sighed and briefly pinched the bridge of her nose. She knew that Ron was feeling betrayed, but that did not give him a right to say that things that he did or to cause a seen at their friend's wedding. There would be no way to reason with him, at least not tonight. "Feel free to owl me when you've pulled your head out of your arse, Ronald."

* * *

"Hermione, what a lovely colour you're wearing. Why, it's the exact colour of a Muffilering in spring time. Did you know that?"

Hermione smiled at her light-hearted friend, "No Luna, I didn't. But you look absolutely beautiful today, I'm so happy for you and Rufus."

"Thank you Hermione," Luna said softly. She then sat down in the empty seat beside her and leaned in closer so that no one else would hear the rest of their conversation. "Rufus mentioned that Jacob's is working another case now. Does that mean-"

Hermione quickly shook her head, "No. The Ministry has just decided to close the case. Lack of progress."

Luna laid a warm comforting hand on top of Hermione's, "Sometimes it's only when we stop looking, that we find what we were looking for in the first place."

She could feel her eyes begin to water, but she took a deep breath and buried them and smiled at Luna. Now was not the time. "Thank-you, Luna. And congratulations on your marriage."

Luna offered one more smile and one last squeeze of Hermione's hand before getting up and walking to the other side of the Table where Harry and Ginny were currently sitting. She took a moment to look around at the other tables. Everyone had finished their meals and were mingling around. There were a few that she had only seen a handful of times since her Hogwarts days, and quite a few that she had never met before. She could see Ron out of the corner of her eye talking with Neville. Anyone who looked over at the red head could clearly see that he was shooting dirty looks at Malfoy. She chose not to acknowledge him for now, he needed to cool off and grow up some before she did that. Because, _honestly, it's been eight years._

"Is there any particular reason that Weasley is trying set my head on fire with his eyes?"

Hermione gave him a bored look and waved her hand, "Childish schoolboy rivalry that he can't seem to let go, the usual."

Malfoy mumbled something underneath his breath, but it was drowned out by the sound of music being played. Luna and Rufus were having their first dance together as husband and wife. Hermione watched them as they glided across the grass. They were so happy looking into the others eyes. Harry caught her eye and winked at her. Her mind quickly flooded with feelings of being betrayed and miserable on a cold night and dancing in a tent with her best friend. He had gone through so much in his short life, but he always knew how to make her smile and laugh.

As the first song came to an end and a second one began, couples began gathering and dancing along to the music. Harry and Ginny soon joined the gathering couples, and Hermione was left on her own. Ron was supposed to be her date for the wedding, seeing as she wasn't seeing anyone and Ron's current girlfriend was visiting her parent's in Ireland. But alas, Ron's childish behaviour had left her on her own sitting at a table like a wilted wallflower.

"Now, now, Granger. No reason to sigh. I'm sure you and Weaslebee will kiss and make up soon enough."

She didn't bother to lift her head from its position on her hand, "We're not dating, we came as friends."

Malfoy raised raise one of his pale eyebrows, "I find that quite surprising. I would have bet 100 Galleons that you to would have been married and expecting by now."

Hermione couldn't help but laugh out loud. It was common for people who hadn't seen her since her school days to assume that she and Ron had formed a relationship. They had shared a desperate kiss during the battle at Hogwarts and nothing had come from it. The two had agreed that they were much better off as friends.

"Oh no," She said, "That ship came and kept right on sailing a long, long time ago. We're far better of as friends."

Malfoy seemed to contemplate what she had said before speaking, "In that case, care to dance?"

Hermione froze, "What?!"

"Calm down, Granger. I asked you to dance, not to go and get married. Just because we're both here alone doesn't mean that we can't enjoy ourselves."

She smiles and shook her head; she was being silly. "You're quite right, Malfoy."

A small rare smile graced his face as he clasped her hand and pulled her from the chair. She could feel eyes on them as they entered the dancing area. Some people could still only see them for the people that they used to be. Him, the Slytherin Prince, who spent the first half of the war fighting alongside Death Eaters. And her, The know-it-all Gryffindor Queen, the brains of the Golden Trio, poster child for the Light. She wondered why it was so hard for people to see and understand that they had grown and changed, that they were not the people that they used to be. His right hand held onto her waist while his left remained clasped in hers. Together, they danced along the other pairs. His hands are warm, and she's not sure why that surprises her. They talk casually of a few things: the wedding, the guests, and the project. She feels comfortable and at ease. They don't talk about Hogwarts or the things that happened in the past, only about the present and the future. Harry catches Malfoys gaze and they give each other a polite nod.

"If I made you uncomfortable last week, I apologize. That wasn't my intention."

"It's fine, it was just rather unexpected. I haven't been there since... well, since the war."

Malfoy nodded in understanding. She saw his eyes gravitate to the her left forearm, but he remained silent even when he saw that the scar was not there. She wonders if he covers his own up to prevent wandering eyes from remembering the person that he used to be. It was so much harder to have peoples perception of you change when it was branded on your skin for everyone to see. Harry had told her once that the marks of the Death Eaters faded once Voldemort was killed, but that the dark magic in branding was so powerful that the mark would never leave the skin completely. It would simply look like a faded Muggle tattoo. This knowledge made her both happy and sad. Happy because it had made catching Death Eaters so much easier. And sad now, because those who had decided to switch sides and turn their lives around, would never be able to forget that they once worked for such an evil wizard, and neither would anyone else. But perhaps that was the way that it should be; perhaps they were never meant to forget who they were, what they did, or what they went through. Maybe these scars and marks were meant to be a permanent reminder.

They dance for a few songs more, and as time goes on, Hermione begins to enjoy herself more and more. She can see that Malfoy is beginning to relax more as well. The clenched jaw that he usually has is starting to loosen and he even cracks a joke. He had always been quick witted, but now that it wasn't being used to cut others down it was rather refreshing. The song was finishing when someone taps Hermione on the shoulder. It's Luna wondering if she could have a moment so say hello to Malfoy. Hermione offered to go and get drinks and leaves the two to talk. Luna immediately embraces Draco as he congratulates her. It was nice to be around someone that he could call a friend, there were so few that he could give that title.

"How is you Mother?"

"As can be expected. She sends her apologies about not being able to attend."

"Nothing to apologize for. I'll Owl her when Rufus and I return from our little holiday, and we'll lunch."

"She would love that."

Luna gave her trademark serine smile and hugged Draco once more, "I've missed you, Draco. I'm as happy as a Hinkypunk in a berry garden that you're back in London."

He offered a rare genuine Draco Malfoy smile in return and nodded his head in thanks as she left to speak to another guest. Hermione returned with two glasses of wine and hands one to him. He offers her a thank you and the two move over to the edge of the dancing area, as to not be in the way.

"I noticed your Mother had a name place at the table, where is she?"

"She's attending to a family matter at the moment."

She nodded in understanding and when she saw his jaw begin to clench once again, thought that it would be best to leave the subject alone. It was common knowledge that Malfoy Senior had been sentenced to Azkaban after the war for crimes against humanity along with a slew of other Death Eaters and Voldemort followers. Malfoys Mother, to her knowledge, had never remarried. In fact, she hadn't heard much about his Mother in the past few years. Media was finally beginning to move onto something else.

The rest of the evening was rather uneventful. Her and Malfoy shared a few more glasses of wine and join a table of conversation with Harry, Ginny, Neville, and to his own dismay, Ron. Ron didn't offer much to the conversation and instead kept filling his glass with alcohol; which ended up being the reason that Hermione had to leave the reception early. Ron had certainly had more than enough to drink and needed someone to take him home. Apparating by himself in the state that she was in would land him in several places and pieces. She hugged each of her friends goodbye, promising to have lunch with Harry sometime next week. She had spent the last half hour contemplating the next thing that she did. She pressed a quick kiss to Malfoy's cheek and thanked him for a lovely evening before tugging on Ron's arm to leave. She'd blame it on the wine tomorrow.

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Thank you for reading! Please don't forget to take a second and send me a review telling me what you think of the story so far! :)


	8. Chapter 7

**It has taken me much longer than I had anticipated to get this chapter up. One, it took longer to write, and two I got super busy. But, it is up now! Yay! No idea of when Chapter 8 will be up [truth be told, I haven't even written it. Still looking for some inspiration]. Hope it will happen soon though!**

**Also, big thank you to all my readers and reviewers! I love hearing from each and everyone of you :)**

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**Chapter 7**

_All parents damage their children. It cannot be helped. Youth, like pristine glass, absorbs the prints of its handlers. Some parents smudge, others crack, a few shatter childhoods completely into jagged little pieces, beyond repair._

- _Mitch Albom_

After the wedding celebrations had finished, Malfoy returned to the small cottage that his Mother had moved to. It was just a small home, close to a beach in south England, but it was big enough for her and had a spare room for when her company or son decided to spend the night. Draco had gone to great lengths to ensure that his Mother's home was unplottable and hidden to any who did not already know about it, close family and friends mostly. The only thing that Draco wanted to do was to keep his Mother safe and happy, like she had always tried to do for him.

He found her sitting in an arm chair by the fire in the living room, with a taupe colours blanket that Andromea had knitted for her as a gift. It was the same spot that she had been in when he had left for the wedding so many hours ago; he was sure that she hadn't moved. Putting a hand on her shoulder as he walked by to let her know that he was there, Draco entered the small kitchenette to heat up some soup. If his Mother hadn't move, she surely hadn't eaten.

"Come on Mum, you need to eat something."

"I'm not hungry, Draco."

He sighed audibly, "I know, but you need to at least try." She continued to ignore him he set the soup on the small table beside her. "He chose to end his own life, Mother."

"Don't say such things, Draco!

Draco threw his arm up. "But it's true! He killed himself! He decided that he would rather be dead than live out his sentence in Azkaban and come back to his family. Let the fucker rot, but don't let him drag you down too!"

"Draco!"

He could feel the rage build within him, and though he tried, he could not stop it from coming out. "No, Mum! I won't pretend for you anymore. He was a terrible man until the day that he died. Even when he war was over, he wouldn't stop! The second that he was released from Azkaban he would be rounding up new and left over Death Eaters to try and continue on Voldemort's path. I won't mourn a person like that!"

His Mother got this sad look on her face. Like when you're trying to tell someone the truth but they just won't believe you no matter what you say. "Draco, Your father did some terrible things, yes, but he loved you."

"Then why wasn't I enough?!" A strangled sob escapes from his throat and he feels as though he is trying to swallow an apple whole. There was so much energy and emotion running through him that he thought he might rip out his own throat to stop the pain. "You say that he loved me, then why didn't he change? Why didn't he _try_?! I hate Lucius for what he took from me, because of him I almost didn't make it out. And every day I have to go up against that demon that I used to be, and up against who so many people still think that I am. I'm pushing against this fucking boulder and it isn't getting an easier. He knew exactly what type of life I would grow up to have if continued to serve Voldemort! He turned me into this terrible person and if I hadn't changed _myself_ I would be just like him. And where would that put me? Torturing innocent people, locked up in Azkaban, or six fucking feet under! So you tell me, how could a father who loved his son, loved his family, want that them? He wouldn't! You when love someone, you do whatever you have to do to keep them safe! I'm glad he's dead! I hate him..._I hate him..._"

He's a mess of sobs and loose limbs. He feels like a child again crying into his mother's lap for a skinned knee, with the fabric of her clothes balled up in his pudgy fists. And that is how he is now, only this time there are no words for his mother to say to heal him and make him forget his worries. The feeling of inadequacy that has been boiling in the basement of his brain for so many years has finally become too much to hold back. So there he lays, a child trying so hard to be the best that he can be but still coming up short in the eyes of his Father.

* * *

Growing up, Draco was always chasing after his father; tripping on the back of his robes trying to keep up and hold onto his father. That is how he remembers most of his childhood, trying to keep up with his father. Trying to grab his attention and make him proud. Draco never had to do these things with his mother, she was always there for him, offering him love and affection without prompting. She encouraged him and made him believe that he could do anything in the world if he was willing to work hard enough for it. He realizes now why it was that he was always trying so hard to be someone that his father could be proud of, and not someone that his mother would be proud of. His mother would always be there for him, always love him and welcome him back with open arms no matter what mistakes he made as long as we was willing to admit and amend them. His father on the other hand, never offered this type of affection or support. As a child, Draco always thought that if he could just do everything right, just do exactly what his father wanted, that he would earn it. And try he did. He had told marks in Slytherin, and played quidditch. He looked down on half-bloods, and pure bloods that befriended those who were not of pure heritage. He spat at and did his best to make muggle borns to feel like the worthless waste of magic that his father had always told him they were. He began to turn himself into his father.

When his father was sentenced to Azkaban, he was torn. Draco was beginning to see the world from a new set of eyes, ones that were not covered in layers of unjustified hatred. But the things that you have instilled in you as a child run deep, making it hard to new knowledge to stick. Sitting in the courtroom at the Ministry during his fathers trial, he knew that muggle borns blood was the same shade of red as his own. But he could still feel an uncontrolled feeling of superiority build up whenever he came across one. He knew that his father had done terrible, unforgivable things. Things that he had watched and at times helped with. But sitting in the chair in front of the council was the same man who taught him to ride a broom, and cast spells. When his father is sentenced, everyone begins to move in their seats, some to leave and others to get ready for the next case. Draco remains on the bench frozen because all he had known is being chained and brought to Azkaban. All he is left with are these new ideas of how the world works, and he is frightened.

Over the next seven years, Draco had visited his Father in Azkaban on two occasions. The first was when Lucius was imprisoned. He remembers the wet feeling in the air, the darkness just before a storm hits. His Father had spit at one of the guards who was locking his chains and screamed that he was a blood traitor. He Father screamed a lot of other things, but he prefers not to think too much on them. The guards then put him on lock down which consisted of full body binds and a leather muzzle. For once, Draco was glad that his Mother was still on house arrest. She didn't deserve to see the man that she had loved like this.

The second time, and the last time, that Draco visited his Father was six years later. The man that he knew as his Father was not the man that sat before him now. Before him sat a weak and crazed old man with greasy grey hair. As Draco approached his cell, he could hear his that his father was talking to himself. The kind of talking that was mumbled and erratic, the kind you saw in prisoners that had been left in Azkaban too long.

"Not too late… no, no. He'll do just fine. Yes, my Lord. Now! Quick! Is it him?"

"Father?"

Lucius' head sprung from its crouched position and began looking wildly around his small cell for the source of the voice. It took Draco saying is name two more times before his father noticed him.

"Draco! I knew you would come… I knew that you wouldn't disappoint me again, not like last time… You can save us!"

Draco was truly confused. "Father, I don't know what it is that you are talking about. I came to tell you tha-"

"Don't play stupid _boy_. You know exactly what you have to do. Round 'em up. Anyone who's left. We can follow through with the Dark Lords plan; kill all those filthy mudbloods and half breeds!"

Draco's shoulders dropped, and he shook his head. How could so many years pass and nothing change?

Lucius eyes darkened, the way an animal's eyes darken and focus before they attack their pray. And with a vicious snarl that came from deep in his chest, Malfoy senior launched himself at his son with his arms out ready to wrap his dirty hands around the boy's throat. The protective barrier that prevent prisoners from leaving their cell was the only thing that stopped him. The shield bounced the older Malfoy back into the back brick wall of his cell. His cell alarm was tripped, signalling to guards that he had tried to leave his cell. The sound of quick footsteps fills Draco's ears. He is grabbed by one guard and pulled away while the other yells at his father and puts him in a full body bind.

He went through three hours of interrogation at the Ministry, and it wasn't until his employer and verified that he had been an apprentice for two years and had been hired full-time with their firm 16 months ago that the interrogation officers released him. He came with a photograph of the bank that had opened in Ireland last week; his first drawing of a building that came to life. The picture never left his coat pocket. He leaves with the disappointment that came with realizing that nothing you did would ever be enough.

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**So... What do you think? Let me know!**


	9. Author Note

Authors Note:

The prequel for this story is now up. It's called _The Place That You Knew. _Reading it will give you a little bit of back story to how this story came about. Please read it and let me know that you think.

Thanks so much! I hope to get the next chapter of this up sometime this week.


	10. Chapter 8

**Thank you to everyone reading, it means a lot to me to see that people are reading and reviewing this little project of mine. In case you missed it, the prequel to this story is now up and can be found on my profile :) Enjoy!**

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**Chapter 8**

_Forgiveness has nothing to do with_ _absolving a criminal of his crime. It has everything to do with relieving oneself of the burden of being a victim – letting go of the pain and transforming oneself from victim to survivor._

- _C.R. Strahan_

Not wanting Molly to have to deal with her mess of a son, Hermione thought that it would be better to bring him back to his own flat rather than the Weasley family home. He was currently slumped over at his small kitchen table mumbling about ferrets while Hermione looked through his shelves to see if he had a pepper up potion. Unfortunately she didn't find it fast enough and he had to run to the loo.

She leaned against the door frame and folded her arms, "You really should have cut yourself off, Ron."

He wiped his mouth off with his sleeve and slowly rose from his crouched position by the toilet, "Yeah, and nobody should have bloody well invited that piece of dung."

"Luna can invite whoever she pleases to her own wedding."

Ron didn't bother to respond right away, and instead began rummaging through his medicine cabinet. Once he found his supply of Pepper Up potion, he torn the stopper of and took a large gulp. "She should know better. And so should you, for that matter!"

Hermione's jaw dropped open, "Me?!"

"Draco bloody Malfoy. Harry told me that you hired him to build the hospital. You could have gone to any other architect in all of London, and yet you went to him! _Him!_ Of all the bloody people..."

Hermione stood her ground. Half in the bag or not, it was time Ron began to wrap his head around the situation. "I hired him because I liked the work that he had done and because of the high recommendations I received from his previous employers. It's been almost ten years, when are you going to let this hatred for him go?"

"How could you even suggest that? Don't you remember what he did? What his _family _did?"

Ron's face had turned a deep red with anger. The colour seemed to begin below his collar and began to rise toward his ears, and a vein in his head began to pulse. A small part of her mind wondered if he had high blood pressure and made a mental not to check that at some point. A much larger portion of her brain was consumed with her friend and how he his audacity to suggest such a thing.

"Stop it! Don't you _dare_ speak to me like I've forgotten what we went through, what we lost? Don't you dare! I will never forget because you, and the nightmares, and this bloody scar won't ever let me! Every day I have to look down at that _disgusting_ word on my arm, and remember how terrified I was. I didn't know if I was going to live to see the next day, or if we had single-handedly ruined our chances of winning. Merlin, we've all lost so many people. Fred, Lupin, Tonks, my parents -"

"You haven't 'Mione, you'll figure out how to get them back."

"It's been _years, _Ron, and nothing has worked! Nothing I've tried has worked!"

She shakes her head and sighs because he doesn't understand, and she's not sure if there is anything that she could say that would make him. She doesn't want to belittle the loss of Fred, and she knows already that anything she says he will take the wrong way. They had all lost so many good people. But she feels like she lost her parents in a different way. Whether or not it's better or worse she can't decide; she thinks it depends on the day. In one hand, it would hurt more if they had been killed. In the other, she doesn't know how what she feels every time she thinks of her lost parents could get any worse. It feels like it is cutting her into two, straight down the middle along the line of her spine; separating the logical side of her brain from the one that still holds onto small grains of hope. She's not sure if she has found the right words, but she lets them out anyways.

"A long time ago, before we got into the thick of the war, I thought that there were two kinds of people. Those that did the right thing and those that didn't; those on the side of the light and those on the side of the dark. That made things simple, _easy, _but it wasn't right. Because people that we thought were good people did bad things, and people that we wrote off as evil did good things, things that helped us to win."

"Malfoy's mom faking Harry's death doesn't erase everything!"

"I know that! But ignoring the fact that they switched sides and helped us doesn't mean that they didn't!"

The tension in his shoulders seems to drop away, but something in her tells her that he is not giving up. Though he was quite social and didn't seem to have much problem speaking his mind to other people "What happened to you Hermione? The girl I knew wouldn't betray her friends for the enemy."

Blame and judgement crawl onto her shoulders and sink into her muscles. This is all familiar, this she knows. They are thirteen and she has been ostracized for putting Harry's safety in higher priority than a new broom. They are fourteen again and learning how to act around each other now that they understood the meaning of the word _gender._ They are fifteen girls with golden blond hair still glare and make fun of her. They are sixteen and she is accused of being jealous of someone else's sudden success in potions. She wonders if she was always meant to be the wrong one, the ugly one, the judged one, because those are familiar feelings and words.

"I hope one day that you can open your eyes and truly see people for who they are, Ron, and not just for who they were so many years ago. Being angry, and hurt, and spiteful all the time is so exhausting. I know that because I used to feel all those things too. But I don't want to feel like that for the rest of my life. That's not the kind of life that I fought so hard for. I'm trying to learn how to move forward with my life, and I really think you should too."

There is an unsettling feeling in her stomach, like someone has reached into her abdomen and begun to squeeze her intestines. This is the feeling when two people that care about each other are on opposite sides. She has felt this before. She can feel the panic response swirling and building in the back of her mind. Because last time her left, and this time he might not come back. This time there's no reason to. No Harry, no Voldemort, no war. And she doesn't know if she's enough to make up for all of that.

Ron stands there staring at her like she is a stranger, and maybe she is to him now. She wouldn't be surprised if he does because sometimes she doesn't recognize herself. He holds her stare. "You may be willing to forgive him, and any other death eaters that _say_ they've changed, but I'm not."

And he leaves, again. She leaves to, except this time she doesn't leave anything to remember her by. No scarves tied around a tree, no hints to how to find her.

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**Let me know what you think :) just fill in the box at the bottom and click submit!**


	11. Author Note (more soon)

**Hi Everyone!**

**Sorry about the unexpected and long Hiatus! I'm so shocked that people have still read this and are looking for more to read! It really means a lot to me. I'm back now and how to be updating this story more regularly!**

**The next chapter is written (yay!), and I have someone who is interesting is being my Beta. So I may just post the next chapter and wait to hear back from them.**

**Thank you all once again for sticking with this story. More will be on the way shortly!**

**I'll also be responding to all the reviews that I can :) If you reviewed a a guest I'm sorry that I can't respond to you personally, but please know that your reviews have meant a lot and I look forward to hearing how you like the up coming chapters!**

**Cheers!**


	12. Chapter 9

**Sorry about the long and unexpected Hiatus, but I'm back! And I'm hoping for a while :) Beta hasn't been set up yet, so apologies in advance for any errors :)  
**

**Another thank you to everyone who has kept with this story though the hiatus, you guys are amazing!**

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Chapter 9

_"You may encounter many defeats, but you must not be defeated. In fact, it may be necessary to encounter the defeats, so you can know who you are, what you can rise from, how you can still come out of it."  
― Maya Angelou_

Hermione lowered her wand from the temple of Alice Longbottom and held in a sign; another session that yielded no results. At least once a week, Hermione ensured that she had a one-on-one session with Neville's parents. Sometimes it was just for her to talk to them and for her to do some observations on their reactions to certain words or images. Others it would be to try out knew theories that she worked on to see if she could do anything to alleviate their catatonic state. A select few times she would work with their memories. No significant progress had been made with the Longbottoms in ten years, but Hermione refuses to give up.

Sticking her head out of the room, Hermione called over Alice's assigned nurse. "Rufus, I think we're done here for today. I'm sure Alice is quite tired and would like to go back to her and Frank's room to have a rest." He gave a curt nod and made filed the chart that he was looking at.

"Alice, I'm going to have your nurse take you back to Frank now. You did very well today, but I think you need a rest. I'll come visit you both in the morning when Neville comes to visit, I'll bring some tea." And with that she gave her dear friends mother's still hand a warm squeeze.

As she walked back to her office, Hermione's mind was whirling with information. Though none of it was proving to be useful. It frustrated her to no end that he brain was full of all of this knowledge, and that she was frequently been deemed the smartest witch of her age, and yet she had yet to accomplish anything. All the books that she had read over her lifetime and still nothing; nothing to restore her parent's memories, nothing to bring Neville's parent's into the present. Even the Ministry was pulling back from her research. Clearly, they didn't think that she would be making any progress.

Dropping down into her chair, Hermione drew out a large role of parchment. When she was trying to understand a complex subject, she always found it more useful to work in mind maps and connecting new ideas to old ones. It allowed her to understand the concept quicker and at a more complex level than memorizing lines out of a book. In the centre, she drew a rough outline of the human brain. Having read through a number of magical and muggle anatomy and neuroscience textbooks, she knew that memories were one of areas that very little was known about. And that is how she sat for close to a half hour, staring at her crude drawing of a human brain, going through all of the facts that she knew about the organ and the memories that it held.

This is what she knew: Excessive or prolonged stress is thought to damage the storage capability of the brain, making it difficult to store memories. That partially explained why Neville's parents were had so much difficulty remembering him even though he visited them frequently. She knew all of the parts of the brain that are involved with memories, and their hypothesized function. And she knew that damage to these areas could cause problems with memory storage or recall. She knew that memories could be pulled and stored, but only how the person remembered them. This explained why it was often hard to convict death eaters who had tortured wizards into insanity or who's memories had been tampered with to protect the dark side. You never knew what the truth was.

This is what she didn't know: What damage did magic cause to the brain? Do memory charms or prolonged torture affect the physical makeup of the brain or is it something deeper that no one had discovered? Is there any way to reverse the damage?

What she needed was to be able to slice open their minds and take a look herself. _Open their minds and take a look herself…_Hermione had toyed with the idea of using Legilimency on Neville's parents. But wizards that she knew who were skilled in Legilimency were far and few between, and most of them were dead or likely to spit in her face if she asked. She needed someone that she could trust to move around in the minds of her patients.

The thought that filtered through her mind next, hit her all at once. Before she could even think it through completely she was calling into her fireplace.

"Hello?"

"Harry!"

"Hermione? What going on, it's nearly eleven, you never floo this late. If everything okay?"

"Yes. Yes, everything is fine. Well, possibly more than fine, actually. I think I may have come up with a way to make some progress with Neville's parents!"

Harry's face took on a look up surprise and excitement, "That's brilliant 'Mione!"

"So, I just need some help from you. Back in sixth year, when you were taking you occlumency lessons, were you ever told of anyone who could preform Legilomency?"

"I'm sorry, Hermione, but I only had a few lessons with Snape and he never mentioned anyone. Even the Ministry doesn't have a list because everyone that has that skill would be able to fool them using it."

And there it is again; that weight on her shoulders seeps through her skin, into her bones, and rests below her stomach.

"Hermione? Are you still there?"

"Oh, yes. Sorry, lost in my thoughts like always. Thanks anyways, Harry." She thought she saw a flicker of concern in the embers of his eyes, but it could have been a burning coal. She shook her head, it was a pile of embers for god's sake.

"Why don't come over and have dinner with Ginny and I?"

"Another time, I have loads of work to finish up."

They bid each other goodbye after Hermione promised to come over for tea on the weekend.

Though she tried to keep her spirits up, Hermione was feeling defeated. She truly thought that she was getting somewhere after all these years. But something had come along and blocked her path, once again.

When Hermione opened up her flat she noticed two things. One: she hadn't finished her tea from this morning, and two: there was an owl waiting patiently outside of her kitchen window. She immediately recognized the owl as Harry's, a lovely light grey barn owl. He couldn't bear to get a snowy white one after losing Hedwig. She dropped her purse and quickly had way to let the bird in. It lifted its leg and patiently waited for her to remove the letter and toss him a treat. After giving the top of his head as quick scratch, Hermione opened up the letter to see Harry's messing writing.

_Hermione, I know of someone._

_- H.P._

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**_Thanks to everyone who is still reading this! It means a lot to me :) Send me a quick review and let me know what you think. Next chapter should be ready soon!_**

**_Also! I have another HP story that I am working on and would love to have a beta on. If you are interested, or know anyone that would be, please let me know!_**


	13. Chapter 10

This chapter is shorter than my usual ones, but the next part isn't ready yet and I really wanted to get something out there :)

Big thanks to Light513 for betaing this chapter :)

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Chapter 10

_The secret of change is to focus all of your energy, not on fighting the old, but on building the new_

- _Socrates_

"No fucking way, Potter."

"Hear me out, Malfoy."

Draco shook his head, "I said no. I'm not doing it. Not a bloody way in hell, get someone else to do it."

"There isn't anyone else! I wouldn't have come to you if there were."

Draco ignored his visitor for a moment and drank his tea in thought. He could feel a headache coming on and he knew that Potter was to blame for it. Just because they had come to some type of common grounds of tolerance after the war, doesn't mean that he liked having him in his office.

"Care to tell me how you even found out?"

A small smirk tugged at Harry's lips, "I may have taking the liberty of looking through your file at the Ministry. They like knowing which wizards have extra cards up their sleeves."

Draco muttered something about_ privacy_ and _fucking politics_, which Harry pretended not to hear. He had a feeling that Malfoy would give in, he just didn't know when and what it would take to get him to do so.

Draco had spent the better part of these two years having a number of false accusations thrown at him after the war. The people that had been tortured by death eaters saw his father as one of the ring leaders. And when you can't wrap your hands around them, you go for the next in line. Though none of those accusations stuck, Draco decided that it would be best if he left London for a while so people could move on with their lives, and so he could move on with his.

"Even if I did agree to do this, what makes you think that anyone would want a death eater's son walking around their mind? I don't plan on putting myself in a position where I can be accused of tampering with someone's mind, thank you very much."

Harry leaned forward in his chair and folded his hands on top of Malfoy's desk. "Look, you're kind of the only shot she's got right now. She's been working on trying to get their memories back since she lef-"

"She? " Draco's eyes narrowed. "It's Granger isn't it? Merlin Potter, isn't it enough that I'm building her a bloody hospital?"

"She's been working on this for years, and she's come up empty every single time. The Ministry has backed out, they don't see the point of working on minds that they have already deemed as broken. This might be it, what she's been searching for."

Draco contemplated Harry's speech. Leave it to Granger to pick up a puzzle that has never been solved over the centuries as her line of work. That Witch certainly loved a challenge, but he couldn't help but think that she had bitten off more than she could chew.

"And perhaps when this doesn't work you should have her look up the definition of obsession. Years with no progress, and centuries of none before that? That sounds like a lost cause to me. With a brain the size of hers, you would think that she would know when to give up."

That's when Draco saw it, a flicker of the old Harry Potter. The one that he began to recognize more and more as they grew older. It was his eyes; in their later school years, he always had this tired weary look about him. He understood now that it was because Harry often took the responsibility of what happened to those around him to heart. He believed that the pain, and the death was his fault. Draco knew that look well, he himself wore it often during his later years at Hogwarts.

"It's complicated, Malfoy. She won't stop, she can't."

Draco leaned back in his chair and gave Harry a hard stare. "Look, it doesn't matter to me why she's doing it. If I decide to help her, I need something from you in return." Harry nodded for him to continue. "I want off that bloody list, and any other list the Ministry has me on."

Harry sat in thought for a moment before answering. "I can get you off the list. And I'll do what I can for the rest, you have my word."

Draco stuck out his hand, "And you have mine."

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**Authors Note:** I realize that in the books we are only informed of Draco knowing Occlumency. I will explain this in the next chapter or so. Thank you so much for ready! Please take a couple seconds to send me a review or message letting me know how you like it so far!


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